


The Aftermath of Budapest

by sarahbee



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Post Avengers (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahbee/pseuds/sarahbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night of passion in Budapest leads to something Natasha isn't ready for. But what about the consequences? Did Natasha really think it through?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Congratulations, Ms Romanoff. It's a beautiful baby girl."

Natasha felt her entire body relax. She brushed her damp hair from her face and looked at the nurse, who was holding a crying baby. 

"Can I hold her?" Natasha asked her voice rough. 

The nurse smiled and handed Natasha the screaming bundle. 

As soon as the baby was in Natasha's arms, she stopped screaming and stared at her mother curiously. 

"You have your daddy's nose," Natasha murmured. 

"Now Ms Romanoff, I see here that you want to put the baby up for adoption," the nurse said an edge of disapproval in her voice. 

"Yes," Natasha whispered. She couldn't imagine having to raise a child in her line of work. It was safer for her to be adopted by a loving family.

The nurse pursed her lips. "And you do not wish to change your mind?" 

The baby cooed and wrapped her tiny hand around Natasha's finger. 

Natasha's heart nearly broke. She wanted to keep this baby. Clint's daughter. But she couldn't. And Clint didn't know. 

"N-no," Natasha said shakily. 

The nurse nodded. "Are you aware you have 60 days to change your mind? After that, the adoption is final."

Natasha shook her head. "I am not going to change my mind."

"I understand," the nurse said. She reached down and took the baby from Natasha, who felt tears spring into her eyes. Why did she feel like this? She'd never felt like this before. 

The moment the baby realised Natasha wasn't holding her anymore, she began to cry again. The nurse attempted to stop the crying, but was unsuccessful. 

The nurse left the room with the baby in her arms and Natasha drew her aching legs to her chest. She rested her forehead on her knees and desperately tried to hold her tears in. She couldn't keep the baby, no matter how much she wanted to. And she could never tell Clint. 

"Ms Romanoff, your cell is ringing," the nurse said. Natasha looked up and took the phone from her. 

"Romanoff."

"Tasha?" Clint sounded so worried. "Oh thank god. I've been trying to get hold of you for two months! Where the hell have you been?"

"Fury sent me on a mission, Clint. I wasn't allowed to say."

"Well, he wants you to come back in." Clint added in a tortured voice, "I need to see you."

"Clint, forget Budapest. Please. It was an accident. Put it out of your mind."

"I can't. Tash, I've been thinking about it for months. I can't stop."

"Listen, Clint. We're partners. That’s all."

A noise that sounded like a sob came from the other end of the phone. "Fine. You need to get here soon. Where are you, anyway?" 

"Um, I'm close," Natasha said, biting her lip as the nurse wheeled the now sleeping baby into the room. 

"Hurry," Clint whispered, and the line went dead. 

"Take the baby out, please," Natasha said, trying not to glance at her daughter. 

The nurse gave her a strange look, and wheeled the baby out again. 

Natasha pushed herself out of bed and traipsed into the bathroom. She looked like a wreck. Her face was pale and her hair was damp and frizzy. Her whole body ached, and she really needed a shower. She turned on the hospital shower and stepped in, letting the hot water run over her worn out body. She felt slightly better when she got out, but Natasha's heart hurt for her daughter. She wanted to keep the baby so badly. 

Natasha pulled on the clothes she'd worn into the hospital. She would need to change them soon, for now they were too baggy on her. 

"Ms Romanoff?" the nurse called. 

"I need to check out," Natasha said. 

"You've only just given birth. It is unwise-"

"I said I need to check out. Thank you for your help." 

Without another word, Natasha turned and marched from the room.

***  
Natasha stared around her bare apartment. She hadn’t been there in two months, yet there was no dust in sight. She assumed that the cleaning service had just let themselves in. That irked Natasha, but she pushed it out of her mind. Now she had to think of a way to explain to everyone where she’d been. She couldn’t just say she’d been on a mission and not give them any details. Everyone would want to know exactly what had happened. Clint had the same clearance as her, so he had every right to know. Natasha would rather she told Clint rather than Clint asking Fury. If Fury told Clint that Natasha hadn’t been sent on a mission, shit was going to hit the fan. 

Entering her bedroom, Natasha peeled off her old clothes and instantly put them in the trash. She never wanted to see the maternity garments again. Natasha’s stomach rumbled and she suddenly realised she was famished. She hadn’t eaten since before she’d gone into labour. 

I’ll grab a burger on the way into work, she thought to herself. She no longer needed to eat healthily for the baby.

Rummaging through her wardrobe, Natasha found a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt, and she put them on. The jeans still felt a little snug, but the extra weight from her pregnancy would be gone soon. Natasha hesitated when deciding what shoes to put on. She was still sore, so high heels probably wouldn’t be the best choice. In the end, Natasha just chose a simple pair of flat black boots. 

Natasha’s stomach rumbled again and she grabbed her jacket off her bed. She was getting a burger and then it was time to face the music.


	2. New Mission

Clint paced restlessly, wondering what was taking Natasha so long. What part of ‘hurry’ did she not understand? Even though Natasha had told Clint to stop thinking about Budapest, he couldn’t. It was one of the best moments of his life, and he never wanted to stop thinking about it.

“Something wrong, Agent Barton?” Fury asked.

Clint looked up at him. How long had Fury been staring at him? 

“I’m fine, sir. Why do you ask?”

“You’re pacing,” Fury said.

Clint stopped and sat on a chair. “I’m bored.”

Fury narrowed his eyes and nodded slightly.

The two of them didn’t speak for another half an hour. Clint put his head in his hands and wished time would pass faster. Where the hell was Natasha?

The sound of the door opening reached Clint’s ears and he jumped out of his seat in time to see Natasha enter the room and close the door behind her.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I was, uh, hungry,” Natasha stuttered, holding up a burger.

Clint frowned, noticing how sick Natasha looked. She was pale and looked like she was shaking. Clint hoped she was ok.

Natasha’s eyes flickered to Fury and she looked nervous, or maybe even frightened. Fury was a scary dude, but he’d never known Natasha to be frightened of him. Or anyone, for the matter. Clint could see there was something wrong with her. She was trying to act normal, but Clint had been working with her for so long that he knew when she was feeling off.

“Wanna tell us why we’re here?” Natasha asked, taking a seat. “I’m exhausted.”

“From your other mission?” Clint asked casually.

Natasha’s head whipped around and she stared at Clint with wide eyes.

“Other mission?” Fury was staring between the two of them, looking very curious.

“Yeah,” Clint said slowly. “The one you sent Natasha on.”

Natasha was staring at the floor, looking very pale.

Fury’s eyes darted to Natasha and then to Clint.

“Oh, of course. The one I told Agent Romanoff to keep secret.” Fury shot an annoyed look at Natasha, who was staring at him as though she was shocked.

Regaining her composure, Natasha nodded. “Sorry, Director, but my partner wanted to know where I’d been for the last two months.”

Fury exhaled and reached into his bad, pulling out two identical cream coloured folders. He threw one to Natasha and one to Clint. Clint opened his and stared at the picture inside.

“This girl looks about 15 years old,” Clint said, confused. Why was Fury giving them a folder on a teenager?

“It says 17, if you read it,” Natasha said, her mouth full of food.

Clint looked at Natasha as she wolfed down the burger. “Should you be eating that?” he asked. “You kinda look like you’ve put on-“ Clint stopped as Natasha glared at him. Maybe mentioning her weight gain wasn’t as smart as he’d originally thought. 

Fury watched the exchange with a small smile on his face. “The girl is known as ‘Holmes’. That’s all we have on her. Her age is approximated. However, she’s been bringing thousands of dollars of tainted drugs into Brazil.”

“Tainted ibuprofen? How’s it been tainted?” Clint asked.

“That we don’t know,” Fury said. “But we do know that it been killing a lot of people. We need you two to go to Brazil and take her out. Holmes appears to be the only way the drugs are managing to get into the country. Once she’s gone, we’re hoping that the drugs are unable to get into Brazil.”

“That’s a big hope, Director. What makes you think someone else won’t start bringing it in?” Natasha asked, pushing her hair out of her face.

Something on Natasha’s wrist caught Clint’s eye. Was that a hospital bracelet? Clint was worried now. He looked for it again, but he couldn’t see it. He must have imagined it.

“She’s blackmailing someone in Border Security. Once she’s gone, the security should tighten back up and the drugs should stop getting in. You can finish reading the files on the plane.”

“You’ve already booked us flights?” Natasha asked.

Fury nodded. “And there’s a car outside waiting to take you. Agent Barton, you can go to the car. I need to speak with Agent Romanoff.”

Clint didn’t want to leave. He stood there, staring at Natasha.

“Off you go, Agent Barton,” Fury said.

“I’ll be right down,” Natasha said shakily, trying to smile. “Don’t look so worried.”

Clint nodded and walked out, pausing once he got outside the room. He strained his ears, trying to hear what was being said. 

“Where have you been, Agent Romanoff?” Fury asked.

Natasha swallowed audibly. “I needed some personal time.”

“I won’t cover for you again. Next time, file for leave.” 

Clint heard footsteps and raced down the hall, beating Natasha out to the car. His head was reeling. Where had Natasha been, if not on a mission for Fury?


	3. Brazil

Clint sat on the end of his bed, trying to make sense of the situation. Two separate hotel rooms? What the hell was going on with Natasha? Clint hated the weirdness that seemed to be between them ever since that one night in Budapest. Natasha had told him to forget it, but how could he? He cared for Tasha, more than he’d ever cared for anyone. Clint had a million ideas running through his head, but each one seemed more and more unbelievable. He wanted to know where Natasha had been. He needed to know where Natasha had been. Clint angrily kicked out at his suitcase, wincing as pain shot through his bare foot. He needed to get out of this hotel room. Where the hell was Fury’s phone call?

The answer to his question came in the form of a knock. He’d left the door open; nobody would be able to fight Clint off and escape with his stuff. Natasha must have known it was open, because she strode in, phone to her ear.

“I’m in his room right now, Director,” she said, stopping at the dining room table. She gestured for Clint to come over, and took a seat herself. Clint dragged himself off the bed and sat across the table from Natasha, who was trying not to make eye contact with him. 

She took the phone from her ear and placed it on the table, before pressing the speaker phone button.

“Alright, Agents Barton and Romanoff. Holmes is attending a benefit tonight, and we managed to get you two tickets. You will be posing as a married couple, Mr and Mrs Davidson.”

Had Natasha actually grimaced when Fury said married?

“We need you to get Holmes out of that benefit. We need her in custody or dead. The drugs she’s running are dangerous and we can’t allow her to continue. Back up will be in place, but we don’t want to have to use it. We need to keep things as low key as possible.”

Clint cleared his throat to interrupt Fury. “Sir, what if she won’t come willingly? People are going to notice if we try to drag her out of the benefit.”

Natasha glanced up at Clint, her face unreadable.

“If she won’t leave the benefit, extreme action will be taken,” Fury said, a hard edge to his voice.

Clinmt and Natasha locked eyes, both thinking the same thing.

“What extreme action, Director?” Natasha asked, lowering her gaze to the phone.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “A sniper will be in place.”

When neither Natasha nor Clint said anything, Fury continued. “We’re hoping it won’t come to that. Now, clothing will be delivered to your hotel room, along with the tickets for tonight’s benefit, your guns and some earwigs and mics. You will be connected to base at all times via your earwigs. There will also be a file containing your aliases and their complete background. Try to memorise as much as you can, and good luck.”

The line went dead and Natasha took her phone off the table. “This is going to be hard,” she said. 

Clint nodded. “Does Fury really think that someone like Holmes is just going to go for a little stroll with some people she’s never met before?”

Natasha grinned at him, and for the first time in months, Clint saw the Natasha he’d known before Budapest. The Natasha who hadn’t always seemed worried. The Natasha who didn’t care what people thought of her.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” she said.

***

“Carl and Anna Davidson,” Clint said, feeling itchy in his tux. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a tux. Probably his mother’s 2nd wedding. 4 years ago.

The security guard’s eyes lingered on Natasha’s cleavage before he finally looked to his clipboard and searched for their names. He found their names and nodded, extending his hand so he could receive their tickets. Natasha handed him the embossed sheets of paper, and the guard stepped aside and let them in. 

Natasha looked fantastic in her long black dress. Most of the men inside the building couldn’t keep their eyes off her, and Clint was glad he was her ‘husband’ and was meant to look annoyed. 

“Holmes is in the far corner, wearing a blue dress. She’s surrounded by two men in dark glasses; probably her security,” said a voice in Clint’s ear.

“Honey,” Clint said. “Why don’t we go for a walk up the back?” 

Natasha nodded to Clint and let him lead her towards Holmes. The security saw them coming and moved to stand in front of Holmes, but she said something to them and they moved aside, standing back and watching.

“Hello, I’m Hanna,” she said, extending her hand. Clint shook it first, then Natasha. They exchanged a glance. Maybe this would be easier than they thought.

***

The evening passed without a hitch. Clint and Natasha managed to learn a lot about Hanna, and were fairly certain that they could get her outside and into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. 

Natasha feigned a yawn and glanced at her watch. “Wow. Look at the time,” she said. “How about we go for a walk under the stars before the party finishes?”

There was a tinkling sound as Hanna dropped her champagne glass. 

Clint frowned; something was wrong.

“What did you say?” Hanna hissed, walking close to Natasha.

“How about a walk?” Natasha said in a shaky voice, playing her part perfectly.

Hanna’s face began to turn red and she pulled a gun from her handbag. “Who do you work for?” she yelled.

That had escalated a lot quicker than Clint had expected. 

Natasha raised her hands in surrender, taking a step away from Hanna. 

“Woah, Hanna, calm down,” Clint said. 

Hanna swung round and pointed the gun at Clint. He mimicked Natasha, raising his hands so he seemed less threatening.

“I won’t do what you want,” Hanna spat, cocking the gun. “And you won’t take me alive.”  
“Hanna, stop. We don’t want to hurt you,” Clint said, very aware that the sniper was somewhere, probably watching the entire scene.

There was a scream from behind Clint as someone realised that Hanna had a gun. All the guests began screaming and running from the building. Hanna’s security had pulled their guns out too, leaving Clint and Natasha defenceless. Clint and Natasha exchanged a look, before Natasha managed to knock both guards out. Clint would always be grateful for Natasha’s lightning fast reflexes.

Now Hanna looked terrified. She was without back up and surrounded by two people she now knew were dangerous.

“I won’t let you take me!” she screamed, her hands shaking as she aimed the gun at Natasha.

Clint’s heart stopped as Hanna pulled the trigger and the bullet sped towards Natasha, before slamming into her shoulder. Hanna dropped the gun in shock as Natasha collapsed to the ground. Clint ran towards Natasha but before he could reach her, another shot rang out and Clint was sprayed with blood. Hanna fell backwards and blood began to pool on the ground.

“Tasha, it’s going to be alright,” Clint said, finally reaching Natasha and pressing his hands on her shoulder to try and stop the bleeding. 

Natasha looked up at Clint, her eyes glassy. “We got her.”

***

“I should have protected you,” Clint muttered as he paced beside Natasha’s hospital bed. 

The doctors had told Clint she was going to be fine, but of course he still felt bad. 

“You didn’t need to protect me,” came Natasha’s weak voice.

Clint whipped around and went to Natasha’s side and took her hand.

“Tasha, I have to tell you something.”

Natasha half smiled at Clint.

“I don’t want to lose you Natasha. Not ever. Because I think I love you.”

Natasha pulled her hand from Clint’s. “No, Clint, you don’t.”

Clint stared at her, unable to form words.

“You need to forget about Budapest. I’ve already told you. We’re partners. That’s it.” Natasha’s voice seemed to be cracking. 

“Tash, I-“

“Go and get some rest, Clint, and forget about what happened between us.”

*** 

Eventually, Clint and Natasha’s partnership returned to normal. Budapest was put behind them, the scene in the hospital forgotten. They were just two people who worked together.   
For six years, Clint didn’t think about where Natasha had been for those two months before the job in Brazil.

Until one day, 4 weeks after the Avengers saved the world.


	4. Clint Finds Out

A warm breeze ruffled Clint’s hair, bringing with it the scent of hot tar. The smell filled him with happiness, for it meant that the city was slowly being rebuilt. Clint enjoyed the walks he went on because he got to see the city as it was fixed. There were posters all over the outsides of building and fences, thanking the Avengers for saving the city. Clint smiled. It felt really awesome knowing he’d helped save all these people.

There was a commotion behind him and Clint turned to see a group of children running about, dressed as the six Avengers. They ran past Clint, shouting and laughing, talking about the villains they were off to stop. Clint crossed the street, his stomach rumbling. He was in need of coffee and a doughnut. The sidewalks were busy, making it hard for Clint to move through with ease. He finally made it through the bulk of the people, only for something to crash into his legs. Clint looked down and saw that he had knocked over a small child. 

“Sorry, Mister,” the little girl said, standing up.

Clint’s heart nearly stopped. He’d seen Natasha’s baby photos a few years back, and this little girl looked almost exactly like her, except for her nose.

“Are you ok?” Clint asked when he found his voice.

The little girl looked at her hand which was bleeding. “I’m alright,” she said.

“You’re bleeding,” Clint said with a smile, pulling a tissue from his back pocket. He handed to the little girl and she took it, pressing it on to the graze.

“Thank you,” she said, grimacing a little at the pain. She looked even more like Natasha when she did that. 

“Do you like the Avengers?” the little girl said.

Clint frowned at her. “Sure. Why?”

“I love the Avengers. I’m so glad they saved us. Otherwise we might be dead. I don’t want to be dead. Do you want to know who my favourite Avenger is?” she asked eagerly.

Not wanting to disappoint, Clint nodded, a big grin on his face.

“I love Hawkeye!” she said. “He’s so cool with his bow and arrows. Someone said he never misses! How cool is that! I wish I could do that.”

Clint laughed. It made him really happy to hear that he was someone’s favourite. “He sounds pretty cool.”

The girl smiled at him, obviously pleased he agreed with her. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted.

“Penny! Thank goodness, there you are.” A woman who looked nothing like Penny rushed over and picked the little girl up. “I hope she wasn’t bothering you.”

Clint shook his head. “Of course not.”

The woman picked Penny up. “Sorry to have disturbed you,” she said, before walking away. Penny waved at Clint as they disappeared into the crowd.

Clint watched them leave, his heart pounding. Suddenly, Natasha’s weight gain and disappearance all those years ago made sense. Had she gotten pregnant and not told him? Clint shook his head. Natasha wouldn’t do something like that. Or would she?

Clint remembered the hospital bracelet he thought he’d seen on Natasha’s wrist. If she’d checked into a hospital to give birth, they would have given her a bracelet. Clint took a deep breath and realised he was shaking. He needed to talk to Natasha. Now.

***

Clint sat in the booth, a hot cup of coffee between his shaking hands. An uneaten doughnut sat on a plate beside him, but Clint’s stomach was churning too much for him to eat it. He’d called Natasha and asked her to meet him here, in a small diner that was usually half-empty. He figured they could have a more private conversation if there were less people around. 

The bell on the door tinkled and Clint looked up to see Natasha enter. She smiled at him and ordered a coffee quickly at the counter. 

“Hey Barton,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him. She seemed to notice that Clint looked off, and she frowned slightly. “Are you ok?”

Clint released his coffee. “I’m not really sure. You see, I ran into this little girl today.”

Natasha looked very confused, and took her coffee from the waitress. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. “So you ran into this little girl?”

Clint pushed his cup away from him. “Yeah, I ran into this girl, and the funny thing was, she looked exactly like you did when you were little.”

All the colour drained from Natasha’s face.

“W-what?”

“You heard me,” Clint said, starting to feel angry. 

Natasha was trying to compose herself. “Wait, how do you know what I looked like when I was little?”

“You showed me some pictures a couple years back.”

Natasha visibly swallowed. “So what are you insinuating?”

“What happened after Budapest, Natasha?”

Natasha laughed nervously and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“God damn it, Natasha,” Clint said. “Stop lying to me!”

Natasha stared at the coffee in her hands, and took another sip. Clint could see that her hands were shaking now. She put the coffee down and put her hand to her mouth, chewing on her fingernails. Natasha only did that when she was really nervous.

“I saw that little girl. She looked just like you. Except, she had my nose,” Clint said, trying desperately to keep his anger in check.

Natasha didn’t look at him. “I don’t know what you’re saying,” she mumbled.

“You know exactly what I’m saying.” Clint paused. “Was there a baby?” 

Natasha bowed her head and muttered an inaudible reply.

“Natasha?” Clint urged.

“Yes.”

Clint felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what he’d expected Natasha to say, but he certainly hadn’t been prepared for it. His heart dropped to his feet and his head began to spin. He had a daughter. A healthy, six year old daughter. And Natasha had never told him. His anger finally took over, and his blood boiled. He hated how Natasha had lied to him, and he hated Natasha.

“Fuck!” he screamed, smacking his coffee cup out of the way. The cup slid down the table and fell off the edge, spilling its contents all over the floor before it shattered. 

The entire diner had gone silent and everyone was staring at them. 

“I can’t believe you lied to me. I had every right know you were pregnant. That child was just as much my responsibility as she was yours.”

“Clint-“

“Save it. I honestly can’t believe you kept something like that from me.”

“Clint, listen to me.”

“I’m done listening to you! I’m sick of all your sneaking about with your secrets. It’s over, Natasha. This partnership is done. I never want to see you again.”

Clint stood up and tried to leave. Natasha stood up and attempted to stop him from leaving. 

“Clint, please!” Something broke in Natasha and she started to cry.

Clint pushed past her, ignoring the looks the other patrons of the diner were giving him. Natasha’s pleas and apologies fell on deaf ears. Clint didn’t want to listen to any crap she had to say.

He just ran. He ran from Natasha, and he didn’t look back.


	5. Natasha Searches

“It’s been three weeks.”

Natasha didn’t even look up from Clint’s phone records. “What’s your point Stark?”

Stark looked over her shoulder at the documents on her desk. “When are you going to stop looking? Thes-“

“I’m never going to stop looking,” Natasha interrupted.

Stark sighed, but it sounded more sympathetic than annoyed. “He’s probably gone on a holiday. He needed a break or something.”

Natasha nearly laughed. Was Stark so stupid that he actually thought that Clint would just go on a holiday? Without telling anyone, even her? They told each other everything. Well, almost everything.

“He can’t just piss off without telling anyone, Stark. He has to let someone know.”

You did, whispered a nagging little voice in her head. You disappeared for two months without telling anyone.

“Maybe he asked Fury for time off.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and looked at Stark. “Fury would have said something. He wouldn’t let us search if he knew where Clint was.”

Stark scoffed. “Fury doesn’t tell us everything.”

Natasha knew he was right, but there was something in the back of her mind that told her that Fury had no clue where Clint was either. She looked back at Clint’s phone records. They were the same as they’d been for the past three weeks; his last outgoing call was to her, and all his incoming calls since had been from her.

Stark followed her gaze and sighed. “Why do you keep looking at them?”

Natasha snatched the papers off her desk. “You never know when they’ll change,” she said, almost angrily.

Stark shrugged. “I guess not.” He paused for a moment and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, we’re all going out for drinks after work. I know you haven’t done anything since Barton left, and I think it would be good if you came out with us.”

“No thanks,” Natasha said, staring at the records again, willing them to change and tell her where her partner was.

“Natasha-“

“I said no thanks,” Natasha interrupted. “I’ll be fine staying here, looking for Clint.”

Stark huffed. “Fine,” he said, turning on his heel and marching from the room, making sure to slam the door behind him.

Natasha put her head in her hands. She knew everyone was sick of her moping, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to find Clint. She needed to. She had to explain to him why she hadn’t told him about the baby. She needed to tell him that she was an idiot. She needed to hear him forgive her. Hot tears came to her eyes and she rubbed them away furiously. She’d cried more in these past 3 weeks than she’d ever cried in her life. 

“Look what you’ve done to me, Clint,” Natasha whispered to herself.

The door opened and Natasha turned around in time to see Hill enter the room.

“So I heard you aren’t coming to have drinks with us,” she said.

“You heard right,” Natasha replied. “Don’t feel like it.”

Hill nodded. “You haven’t felt like doing anything these past few weeks.”

“My partner is missing,” Natasha said, getting angry again.

Hill rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure Barton would be so happy if he could see you moping about, not doing anything. He’s going to come back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“You didn’t hear what he said to me!” Natasha spat, not thinking.

Hill stared at her for a minute. “What do you mean?”

Natasha shook her head. “Nothing.”

“What did he say to you?” When Natasha didn’t answer, Hill walked over to her and grabbed her arm. “Natasha, what did he say?”

Natasha’s green eyes locked with Hill’s blue ones and she took a deep breath. “He told me he never wanted to see me again.”

Hill let go of Natasha’s arm. “Why would he say that?”

Natasha looked at the floor and shook her head. 

“We’ll find him,” Hill said, her voice full of sympathy. Unexpectedly, she hugged Natasha fiercely. “He’ll come back.”

Natasha nodded, wanting to believe Hill. She knew that Clint wouldn’t come back willingly. Natasha would have to search for him and bring him back by force. He was angry and Natasha understood that, but she needed to make him see that what she’d done was necessary.

“I’ll leave you be,” Hill said, patting Natasha gently on the shoulder before leaving.

As Hill left, Natasha found herself wondering if she tried hard enough to stop Clint from leaving.

***

“Clint, please!”

Hot tears were running down Natasha’s face, and she never cried. She couldn’t stand to see Clint so angry, so upset. 

Clint pushed past her and made his way to the door. It took Natasha a moment before she took off after him, pleading for forgiveness.

Clint broke into a run and in her current state, Natasha could not keep up with him. Any other time she would have outrun him, but not now. 

Natasha pushed her red hair from her face and dug her phone out of her pocket. With shaky fingers she found Clint’s number and pressed ‘Call’. It kept ringing until she reached the voicemail.

“Hey, this is Clint. I think you know what to do.” BEEP.

“Clint, please. Come back. Let me explain to you why. Pick up the phone.” Natasha’s breath was ragged, but she had managed to stop crying. 

Natasha hung up the phone and studied her surroundings. She was in some park and she had no idea where. She turned around and began to retrace her steps, hoping it would lead her back to the diner.

***

It had been three hours since their fight in the diner, and Clint still hadn’t returned Natasha’s phone call. Natasha stared at her phone on her kitchen table and wondered if she should call him again. Surely three hours was enough time for Clint to cool down.

“Hey, this is Clint. I think you know what to do.” BEEP.

Natasha sighed angrily. He was still ignoring her.

“Clint, pick up your phone. I just want to explain myself to you. Please, call me back.”

Natasha hung up and placed her phone back on the bench. Now she just had to wait. And hope.

***

“Hey, this is Clint. I think you know what to do.” BEEP.

“Clint, stop with the shit and pick up your fucking phone!”

Angry, Natasha threw her phone at the wall. It bounced off and hit the ground, unharmed. That just made Natasha angrier. Why couldn’t he just talk to her?

***

Three weeks passed exactly like that. Three calls a day; one pleading, one neutral, one angry. Every day Natasha would hope and pray that Clint would call back, but he never did. Not once. Natasha would jump when her phone rang and she would run to it eagerly, only to be bitterly disappointed when Clint’s number did not flash on the screen. 

***

Natasha listened to Hill’s footsteps retreating and pulled her phone from her pocket. She found Clint’s number, but her thumb hovered above the ‘call’ button. Was it really going to do any good, calling him every single day? Natasha shook her head and put her phone back into her pocket. 

Natasha opened her laptop and began to sift through CCTV footage from all the places she thought Clint could be. This was another one of her daily rituals now. She’d search and search for her partner but she’d never find even a hint of where he was. Still, every day she did it again. She’d keep searching until she found him. 

Of course, she obviously didn’t know she’d still be searching for him in ten years. 

***

Nick watched the couple climb from their car. The husband went to the door and unlocked it, holding it open as the wife collected a little red haired girl from the backseat. 

Nick glanced at the photo in his hand. The little girl in the picture looked almost the same as the girl the woman was carrying, save for her nose. He flipped the photo over and the back read “Natasha Romanoff, aged 6.”

Nick smiled and pocketed the photograph, starting the car back up. At least now he knew why Natasha had needed ‘personal leave’ and why she’d had no time to file for said leave.


	6. A Folder

“I’m Conner Roberts, and I’m coming to you live from outside Tony Stark’s mansion. The billionaire has not left his mansion in a few days, but he still refuses to hand over the Iron Man suit. Authorities are giving Mr Stark one week to give up the suit, and after that they will take action to forcibly remove the suit from his possession.”

“And so they should.”

Penny looked up from her cereal and glanced at her mother, who was watching the news on the couch. It had become a daily ritual of her mother’s to watch the news in the morning and complain. Her mother had become so engrossed in the television that she hadn’t even put up her long brown hair into the boring bun she wore every day. 

“Doesn’t he realise that the sooner he gives the suit over, the sooner everyone will leave him alone?” her mother asked.

Penny’s father had a way of ignoring his wife’s constant complaining, so it was up to Penny to reply.

“They won’t leave him alone once he gives up the suit. They’ll continue harassing him,” Penny said, finishing her cereal and taking the bowl into the kitchen.

The TV turned off and shoes clicked on the tiles as Penny’s mother exited the lounge room. 

“The time for superheroes is over, Penny,” her mother said. “We don’t need them anymore.”

Penny watched as her mother walked off to her bedroom to continue getting ready, rolling her eyes. She was nothing like her mother. Her mother hated superheroes, whereas Penny loved them and looked up to them. They helped save Manhattan from destruction. Who knew when they would be needed again?

Penny was a bit more like her father, but not that much. Her father was a mild man, and Penny was far from mild. She was loud and that seemed to attract people to her. She was popular in school, and her father hadn’t been. Penny had many of the same views as her father, and she disagreed with every single view of her mothers.

Penny didn’t even look like them. Her mother had dark brown hair and brown eyes and her father had blonde hair and blue eyes. Penny had a head of thick, wavy, dark red hair and green eyes. Penny had asked her parents about it numerous times, but they always told her that it was just a recessive gene.

Grabbing her bag off the bench, Penny headed to her room to get dressed and pack her stuff for school. The walls of her room were covered with posters of the Avengers, some dating back as far as 2012, when the public first became aware of their existence. Penny even had the article that had been published when Tony Stark revealed that he was Iron Man. She didn’t want the world to not need superheroes anymore. 

“I’m leaving now,” Penny called as she put her lunch into her bag. Her parents came out of their room, both fully dressed and ready to go.

Her mother eyed her bag, annoyed. “You’re nearly 16 years old, Penelope. Why are you still using a bag like that?”

There’s nothing wrong with my bag, Penny thought, annoyed. Her Avengers bag was a classic, and everyone still had superhero bags. Especially all the people she hung out with.

“Everyone has bags like this.”

Her mother rolled her eyes and pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll see you later,” she said, squeezing Penny tightly in a hug. Penny hugged her mother and then her father. She walked out the front door and waved to them as she walked off.

***

“She’s leaving, sir.”

Nick nodded and handed the manila folder to the agent in the backseat. In his opinion, Penny was old enough to know the truth about her parents. Ten years later, and they still hadn’t found Barton. Nick had a faint inkling as to where the man could be, but he thought it best that he didn’t go looking. 

“Block off the street. Get the rest of the pedestrian traffic off that path. We don’t want someone else picking up the file,” Nick said into the walkie-talkie. 

There was a pause and then a voice came back over the walkie-talkie. “You’re good to go, sir.”

The agent in the backseat, Charles Spinner, opened the door and stepped out. He was only a man of 45, yet the outfit and makeup he was wearing aged him about 25 years. That was what they wanted. Who’d suspect an old man?

***

Penny could never walk to school without her head buried in a book. She always thought it was the best way to read. She was currently reading an old book, one her mother read when she was a child. Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone it was called. First in a series of seven, and Penny loved it. She was just getting to a good part (there was a troll in the dungeon!) when someone collided violently with her. Penny dropped her book and nearly fell over.

“I’m so sorry!” she gasped when she realised she’d knocked over an old man.

“It’s fine,” the old man said, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. 

“Are you alright?” Penny asked, mortified. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Have a good day now.” The old man began to wander off at a slow pace.

Penny looked down at the ground to locate her book and realised there was a folder laying on the path beside it. She picked both up, and turned around to call to the old man.

“Mister, wait, you for-“ Penny stopped short when she realised the old man was gone. She was confused. There was nowhere the man could have gone, nowhere he could have hidden. Surely he was too slow to have walked all the way to the corner in that short period of time?

Penny shook her head and tucked the book under her arm so she had both hands free to look at the folder. Maybe she could find some form of ID in the folder so she could return it to the old man.

She took another quick look around, in case the old man had come back. When he hadn’t, she flipped open the folder.

Nothing could have prepared her for what was inside.

A photo of her.


End file.
